December Love

g bronze. A cold hand had touched her vanity on the night of the dinner in Soho. She had felt angry with Craven for not coming back to the Cafe Royal, and angrier still with Lady Sellingworth

been glad to go, perhaps he had submitted to an influence which had ca

r to him. Craven had puzzled a little over the final sentence of that letter. There were two reasons for its apparently casual insertion. Miss Van Tuyn wished to whip Craven into alertness by giving his male vanity a flick. Her other reason was more subtle. Some instinct seemed to tell her that

of being studied and sometimes painted. It must be obvious to anyone that the living bronze could not be numbered among the merely dull and conventional. Naturally enough, then, Garstin supposed him to be a successful blackmailer. Miss Van Tuyn was not going to allow herself to be influenced by the putrescence of Garstin's mind. She had her own views on everything and usually held to them. She had quite decided that she would get to know the living bronze through Garstin, who always managed to know anyone he was interested in. Being totally unc

ge's. Although she sometime dined in the shadow of Vesuvius, she preferred to issue forth from some lair which was unmistakably smart and comfortable. Claridge's wa

e. The passage about Soho was perfectly clear to her mind, although to many it might have seemed to convey an agreeably worded acceptance of her suggestion,

y been "got at" by

went presently to the telephone. Although in her note to Craven by implication she had left it to him to suggest a tete-a-tete dinner in Soho, she was now resolved to ask him. She was a girl of the determined modern type, not much troubled

he following dialogue too

s?

Craven

ck Craven. Who

t you

Is it-I'm afr

l Van

nce, but somehow I couldn't place

rously

s sple

d y

eople call very

n't, because I want you to take me to dine at the Bella Napoli. We agr

awfully

ha

ver so

hy

nner engagem

t surely you can

not. No, rea

cuse! Say y

s rather important. Besides

O

voice changed slightly at th

, of course. . . . You

ally am. S

derstand. Never mind.

t. Thank you so much. By the

he livin

. . The liv

Well, what

r petticoats

ous

ink I rath

ou

rvened. Then something happened; an

e left-hand side. You know when we were at t

r. Almost immediately afterwards he was rung up by Lady Sellingworth, hung on th

st, he supposed so. For she had abruptly changed her mind after hearing of Miss Van Tuyn's invitation. But why had she meant to give up the dinner? What had happened between his exit from her house and her ringing him up? For he could not believe in the excuse of ill-health put forward by her

i! Bella

e, she had been aware of resistance, of a distinct holding back from her influence. This was a rare experience for her, and she resented it. She believed Craven's excuse for not dining with her. It was incredible that a young man who had nothing to do would refuse to pass

e. She went to the window of her sitting-room, drew the curtain back, pulled aside the blind, and looked out. The night was going to be fine; the sky was clear and starry; the London outside drew her. For a moment she thought of telephoning to Garstin to come out somewhere and dine with her. He was rude to her, seldom paid her a compliment, and never made love to her. But he was

ther. Possessed by this conviction, and acting on an almost fierce impulse-for her vanity was now suffering severely-she went again to the telephone and rang up Lady Sellingworth. When she was put through, and heard the characteristic husky voice of her so-called friend at the other end of the line, she begged Lady Sellingworth to come and dine at Claridge's that night and have a quiet

ey Square, and Craven was going to be the host, as he had said. He had invited Lady Sellingworth to go out and dine somewhere alone with him, and she had consented to do so. Where would they go? She thought of the Bella Napoli. It was very unlikely that they would meet anyone there whom they both knew,

ingworth, had always praised her, had taken her part, had even had quite a cult for her! It was very disgusting. It showed Miss Van Tuyn how right she had been in generally cultivating men instead of women. For, of course, C

that Craven was glad to be engaged that even

nut-coloured smooth hair, large, chestnut-coloured eyes under badly painted eyebrows, and a mouth with teeth that suggested a very kind and well-meaning rabbit, was lying in bed with a cup and a pot of camomile tea beside her, and Bourget's "Mensonges" in her hand. This was Fanny Cronin, originally from Philadelphia

e saw Miss Van Tuyn. "After all, there's nothing like

ou love it, and I'm not going to disturb you. I only came to tell y

y yourself, dear, and

by the person she was dame de compagnie to. It was, after all, an easy enough profession so long as a beneficent Providence permitted your heart to beat and your lungs to function. The place at present was Claridge's Hotel. S

. You have such a wide choice

uyn slight

e in London as there is in Par

I think. Where would you find an author like Bourget among the Englis

en't the bite. That is what you

when one sits

s a very dull dog. I saw a wonderful dog the

d! In

m sure it wa

t a po

te the c

was quite the contrary of a poodle, but, after the Channel, her mind was u

olour w

e a brown bronze. Wel

Mensonges' again when I have finished with it. On

all len

in settled comfortably down once more to

way in which her corn-coloured hair was done, making it sit much closer to the head than before, and look much less striking and conspicuous. The new way of doing her hair changed her appearance considerably, made her less like a Ceres and more like a Puritan. When she was quite satisfied with her hair she got out of

n with a clever, but not unpleasantly subtle, face. Miss Van Tuyn said

ed slowly and carelessly across the

said the commissi

away down Brook Street in the

time in her life neglected and even injured. And she was determined to try to find out whether her strong suspicions about Lady Sellingworth and Craven were well founded. If really Craven was giving a dinner somewhere, and Lady Sellingworth was dining with friends somewhere else, she had no special reason for irritation. She might possibly be mistaken in her unpleasan

Grosvenor Square and turned down Carlos Place. "For if I had known it they might have felt obliged to invite me

in Soho, had taken trouble about the food and about the music, had, in fact, done everything that was possible to make the evening entertainin

h had carried him off, and perhaps to-night

Square. "They never know when to stop. They are never satisfied. It's bad enough to be with a greedy child, but it's real

an old beauty herself, and even then would perhaps still

The big mansion was dark. As Miss Van Tuyn went by it she felt an access of ill-humour, and for an instant she knew something of the feeling which

not look at them as she went by. But presently she felt that she was being followed. This did not disturb her. She often went out alone in Paris on foot, though not at night, and was accustomed to being followed. She knew perfectly well how to deal with impertinent men. In Shaftesbury Avenue the man who was dogging her footsteps came nearer, and presently, though she did no

e it. I'm sorry I can't

nze. He stood for an instant gazing at her veil, and then turned round and walked away in the direction of Rege

e been hanging about near the door of the Cafe Royal when she passed and watching the passers-by. He must have seen her then. Could he have recognized her? In that case perhaps he was merely an adventurous fellow who had been pushed to the doing of an impertinent thing by his strong admiration of her. As she thought this she happened to be passing a lit-up shop, a tobacconist's, which had mirrors fixed on each side of the window. She stopped and looked into one of the mirrors. No, he could not have recognized her through the veil she was wearing. She felt certain of

ould not have been got rid of so easily. No; he would probably have coolly pocketed the shilling, and then have entered into conversation with her, have chaffed h

ting him to an adventure. He was not an Englishman or an American. She felt certain of that. And she knew very well the views ma

an, she did not wish him to know that she and the girl who had offered him a shillin

as not so brightly lit up, or at any rate seemed to her darker. She heard voices speaking Italian in the shadows. The lights of small

n were really dining together, as she suspected, and at the Bella Napoli, she could see them from the street if they had a table

f they were there, and would no doubt be surprised and decidedly uncomfortable. But that could not be helped. Having come so far she was determined not to go back to the

this decision

usic of that type makes youth feel that the world ought of right to belong to it, that the old are out of place in the regions of adventure, romance a

her listen to Bach and Beethoven, or to Brahms if she likes. She can have the c

nt she felt very

ver it. There was opaque glass at the bottom, but not at the top. She was tall and could l

she thought. Lady Sellingworth looked unusually happy and animated, even perhaps a little younger than usual. Yes! Very old, but younger than usual! They were not eating at the moment, but were no doubt waiting

still on the pavement sta

Miss Van Tuyn moved away. He could not have seen her. But perhaps he had felt that she-or rather of course

spoil the rest of their evening. Should she do that? Some indelicate devil prompted her, urged her, to do it. It would "serve them right," she thought. Adela Sellingworth especially deserved a touch of the whip. But it would be an undignified thing to do. They would never kn

ask her to join them. But she would not join them. Nothing could induce her to do that. And was she to come over to them when coffee was brought, as Craven had come at

alked on and came int

d dine upstairs at the Cafe Royal, and go into the cafe

n-and

ter she was seated at a table in a corner of the restaura